


Stripper S/O

by KassieProphet



Series: Ghost Tumblr Prompts [5]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band), Ghost B.C.
Genre: Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Mentions of Cock Warming, Other, Stripping, bad dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 17:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21413599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KassieProphet/pseuds/KassieProphet
Summary: Tumblr Prompt:Do you have any headcanons for the papas and copia having a stripper s/o?
Relationships: Cardinal Copia/Reader, Papa Emeritus I/Reader, Papa Emeritus II/Reader, Papa Emeritus III/Reader, Papa Emeritus Zero | Papa Emeritus Nihil/Reader
Series: Ghost Tumblr Prompts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536134
Kudos: 20





	Stripper S/O

**Papa Nihil** \- Is no stranger to a sinuous wiggle or skimpy dress on a dancer, but it takes some patient explaining on your end the difference between your job and the Go-Go dancers he hung out with in the 60s. Despite being the Senior Clergy, Nihil isn’t very authoritative (let’s be honest Sister Imperator is the one in charge), so if you want to get anywhere, you’re going to have to drive that initiative. If you wear your costumes around him, he’s inclined to pinch your ass with a rude noise, but you find he’s all bark and no bite—any time you turn his lecherous overtures back at him, he backs off and gets all fidgety. You tried to give him a private show once: about a quarter of way through, he asked you to stop, face red from embarrassment. He stressed that he wasn’t one of your customers and you didn’t have to be “On” for him. The man is like teflon for seduction. He’s all too happy to spend a Sunday afternoon reading to you from his lore books and showing you cat videos on YouTube. His only reservation with your job was that he thought the club you worked out was way too sketchy. With the church connections he was able to get you a position at an upscale establishment. You’re annoyed he didn’t ask you first—all your friends are at that club!—but you can’t deny the extra safety of the new place and a certain prestige that’s been associated with you through the rumor mill.

**Papa I** \- Telling I that you’re a stripper is like telling him you sell insurance; to him a job is a job—though he does see yours as a way you honor the teachings of the Church, so he approves on principle. He’d never outright ask you for a private show, but he wouldn’t stop you if you were to perform for him (it’s just how you honor the Church, right?). You make it your personal mission to ruffle this stoic man’s feathers—you’ll keep the heat up in his quarters so you can prance around in your skimpy outfits and so he’ll be obliged to take off a robe or two; lap dances tend to make him flustered, a fact that you enjoy exploiting by always sitting in his lap when he’s trying to read you scripture. He’s always reverent when touching your body to the point that you’re often rolling your eyes and placing his hands where you want them. If you want anything done, you’re going to have to do it yourself, since he’s quite content to shuffle through his paperwork while you practice your routines. More than once you’ve crawled over to him on hands and knees to warm his cock and instead you’ve found yourself on the receiving end of one of his ideology thought experiments, one he’d like to incorporate into a sermon. It’s actually kind of a refreshing change to have a partner who doesn’t have any preconceived notions about who you are based on your job, and you find yourself engaging with him often over the Church theology. 

**Papa II** \- Your occupation is literally the reason you met. You walked in on him snorting blow off your coworker’s ass in the backroom of the strip club. You were about to apologize and hightail it out of there, but he caught your gaze and it was as if he saw right to your very core. He basically whisked you away to the Church that very night (well, you spent about a week on the tour bus fending off the band Ghouls, but you were _on your way_ to the Church). II has devoted himself singularly to helping you reframe your experience as a stripper into an expression of Church teachings. He’s _so_ _devoted_ that he even had a pole installed in his private rooms so you’d have a place to practice your routines free of distractions from the other Sibling and the Ghouls. He’s magnanimous enough to always insistent that you use him to hone your lap dance technique. Intellectually you know you should be feeling **kept**, but he makes you feel sexy and that there must be something special about you for this high-powered man to have singled you out. You continue to let him think that it’s you—and not him—that is wrapped around a little finger. The only thing you need to be careful of is his possessive streak. People at the club who get aggressively handsy have the tendency to disappear …

**Papa III** \- You would think he’d be annoying about it, but he’s the last one who would fetishize your occupation. Don’t get him wrong, though!—he loves to put your body isolation techniques to the test when you’re in bed together. Sure, you’ve done the odd seduction strip for him, but you’re more likely to find _him_ trying to strip for _you_. And he’s. Well, he’s terrible at it. So bad. There’s a reason his signature move is a mummy thrust. The man is all jerky boxes and no sinuous curves when he tries to do a wiggle. And he’s made it his mission to find and wear the most ridiculous “sexy” costumes for you. The last one was “Sexy Finding Nemo” with coordinated face paint. It always makes you laugh and that’s really all he’s going for. He knows intimately how physically demanding performing is and can only imagine how mentally taxing dealing with customers is. Outside of sexy times, he’s happy to slip into something comfortable (and expensive—the man likes his thread counts) and read you [dirty] poetry. In your past, others have been aggressively condescending about your safety, but III trusts that you can take care of yourself. And if you thought you saw a Ghoul out of the corner of your eye one night as you were leaving the club late, you can admit it if feels nice to be cared for.

**Copia** \- He’s always looking at you like a [sex] bomb that might explode. For all his own lechery on stage, he’s nervous to treat you like some of his fans treat him. Don’t they understand it’s just a performance? He tends to overcompensate by doing activities with you that he feels are far removed from your occupation: a picnic; stargazing; the Church’s box seats at the opera … On one memorable occasion he took you to a vaudeville show and was flustered when the burlesque dancers came out; he was stammering and apologetic the whole time, and you had to shush him so that you could admire their techniques. The worst part for him is that he _does_ find it alluring that you get on stage and perform titillation with your fit body for a crowd. He’s something of a voyeur and you’ll often see him at your club in a dark corner. Just. Watching. He never approaches you when you’re working, but you always feel the weight of his attention on you. It makes for some steamy dirty talk as he urges you to confess your “sins” for his absolution. Despite his devotion to the Church—and his studious academy—he _never_ wants to discuss his work with you. At first you were insecure that maybe he thought it over your head, but he soon explained that when he’s with you he’d rather the two of you just enjoy each other; he spends quite enough of his time mired in theology, he’d much rather talk to you about Anything Else, _thankyouverymuch._


End file.
